


Love Always Ends in Loss

by Theyna_Shipper



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Happy Ending, Jason Grace Death, M/M, Nico Reacting, angsty, im sorry I had to write this, so there is that, solangelo, spoiler alert he doesnt handle it well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theyna_Shipper/pseuds/Theyna_Shipper
Summary: How Nico reacts to Jason's death, from his initial reaction, to attending his funeral, to visiting him in the underworld, to returning to camp without him.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Jason Grace Friendship, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 1
Kudos: 64





	Love Always Ends in Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please like and comment. This is gonna be hella angsty but it has a happy ending.

I'm heading to lunch with the Apollo Cabin. Will is telling some stupid joke that I only half hear. As I set down my tray, a splitting headache pierces my temples. I grip the table for support. "Nico?" Will asks. His voice sounds a thousand miles away. "Is everything OK?"

I force my eyes open. The pain subsides. I haven't felt anything like this since...

Oh, Hades, No. No way. Not since five years ago. I look up. My eyes land on the Zeus Cabin, and the stabbing pains return. No. This isn't happening. 

"I need to go," I manage to say. 

I run to the lake, ignoring. I kneel at the edge of the dock, and pull my small flask of olive oil from my belt. I pour it onto the surface of the water, and in a minute, the iridescence creates a rainbow. I drop in a coin.

"OhIrisGoddessoftherainbowgrantmeyourblessing," I gasp. 

The rainbow shimmers, like television static. 

"Show me Jason Grace!"

It takes me to a dorm room that I recognize as Jason's. It is empty. His water bottle is on the nightstand, like he plans on being back in a few hours. In my heart, I know what has happened. 

"Show me Piper McLean!"

The next image takes the last of my hope. Piper is sitting on a plane, her face buried in her hands sobbing. Apollo is sitting next to her, looking to be in shock. 

"Piper?" I call. 

She looks up and registers my face. "So you know, then?" she asks bluntly. I can't handle it. I cut through the Iris message. I kneel on the hard wood of the deck, supporting myself on my hands, splinters digging into my palms. 

"Nico? Everything fine?" Will fallowed me. He is a few feet behind me. "What happened?" He reaches to put hand on my shoulder. 

I spring up and slap his stand away. "Leave me alone," I stammer. I don't mean to be blunt. But I can't talk to anyone right now. 

It seems like something bad happens to everyone I love. Bianca. Jason. Please, gods, not Will. I need to stay away from him right now. 

I'm not sure where I am going. I find myself in Cabin Thirteen. I can't handle this, I can't process this, I can't. Some small part of my brain is processing this rationally, but as so often happens, I let my emotional brain take over. 

My emotional brain is not very responsible. 

I draw my sword. It feels right. I want to channel my anger, at whoever killed Jason, at the gods for cursing us to this life, at Apollo and Meg and Piper for taking Jason on this quest, at myself for not protecting him and for letting myself _feel_ again, at Jason for letting me into his life and for letting himself get killed- at anyone I can tie to this. 

But none of those people are near me. So the burgundy curtains covering my bay window are the first target of my misplaced wrath. I slice them in half. They fall to the ground and dissolve into a puddles of shadow. It is so satisfying. 

I turn. I see my reflection in the mirror. Soon the mirror- and the bureau it is attached to- is shadow on the floor. 

Now that I have indulged my taste for destruction, I lose control. Before I know it, I have destroyed every last furnishing, every last decoration, every last curtain in my room. The sunshine that pours through the uncovered windows is a mockery. I am ankle-deep in the strange gaseous liquid that everything has dissolved into. I fall to my knees, then to my hands. I see my reflection in pool. My wild hair, my bruised and cut face- how did that happen?- the black lines on my face, where my tears smeared my eyeliner, my red eyes- I am the perfect picture of rage, grief, and destruction. 

I collapse into the liquid. It touches me, wet does not saturate my clothes. I can feel its presence, but it is not damp to the touch. 

Through my lashes, I see Will open the door. He looks around at the chaos. Leave, coward. I bet you weren't expecting this side of me. 

I might have more control over it, but it is always there to take over. It is worse than lycanthropy, because i never know when my beast will emerge. And my best is Me. 

The shadows retreat from him. He kneels down beside me. "Who?" he whispers. 

"Jason," I manage to choke out. 

He realizes he can't leave me here. He realizes I'm not moving. He bends over and scoops me up, carrying me like a baby. If I wanted to resist, I would be too weak to do so. 

\--------------

I must have passed out in the infirmary. Will and Chiron are quietly sitting next to me. 

"Son of Hades," Chiron begins. Don't remind me. "Will has informed me that you- sensed the death of Jason Grace."

I push myself up. 

"Reyna. Hazel. Frank. I need to tell them."

Will pushes me down. 

"Apollo is delivering the body. They will know soon enough. It is best for them to find out this way," Chiron says.

This I agree with. "Let me go to the funeral," I plead. 

"Nico, cross-continental travel, especially considering recent events, is not safe, and a visit to the Romans would cause an upset-"

"Please," I interrupt. "I'll shadow travel. I won't talk to anyone. I'll come back right away. I know I'm strong enough."

Chiron turns to Will. "He is strong enough," Will says. 

"You have to let me. I wouldn't trust this burial to anyone else."

Chiron sighs. "Please be careful. Nico di Angelo. And-" he takes a deep breath- "Please make sure Jason gets the honors he deserves."

\-------------

A few days later, I am standing at the crest of Half-Blood Hill at night, preparing to make the jump. Will has come to see me off. "Please be careful," he begs, "I know you're stronger now, but shadow travel is dangerous no matter what, and I don't want to lose you-"

"I'll be fine, love," I say. "I'll see you later."

I close my eyes and grab onto a branch. I let the shadows absorb me. 

I reemerge in the shadow of a massive building at Camp Jupiter. No matter how many times I shadow travel, the time change always throws me off. It was night in New York, but here, it is barely dusky. 

Jason's funeral procession is assembling. Reyna stand at the head. I arrive in time to see Apollo and Frank running to her shoulder. Reyna says something to Apollo. He turns to the gathered procession. "Come, my friends. Let us escort our brother to his final feast."

When Apollo came to New York, he seemed to be a baby deer just learning to walk. He still stumbles and hesitates, but his speech- these twelve words- command the entire legion. They make my heart catch in my throat. Standard funerary orations, but they are spoken with power. 

The procession continues solemnly down the path. The sunset adds ample drama. Suddenly everyone stops. Apollo looks to be on the verge of collapse. His death aura gets strong enough for me to feel it from here. Reyna hisses something in his ear. He pulls himself together and moves forward, to the top of Temple Hill. I wonder if Jason ever got to present his grand plans for the new temples. 

The legion sits. Reyna, Frank, and Apollo stand at the pyre. I can see all three of their mouths moving, but it is anyone's guess what they are saying. I scoot closer, and catch snippets of their conversation. 

"Thalia..." "Me too, but-" "I..."

Apollo gives a Latin funeral oration. It sounds so tepid, so impersonal. 

The aurae distribute the feast, setting a plate on Jason's coffin. 

Reyna makes eye contact with me. I wasn't supposed to be noticed, but I doubt that she believed for a second that I won't be here. Her eyes convey her message: don't leave until we've spoken. 

Just as the legion settles in to eat, wolves encircle the crowd. My grip tightens on my sword. Reyna says something to Apollo. He walks away with the head wolf- Lupa? I watch the pyre burn, Jason's body turning to smoke and ash. I feel his spirit reaching out to be released. "Go," I whisper. I am not sure I can do anything, but I want to feel like I can. 

Everyone returns to camp. Reyna stays behind. She kneels in the ashes, puts her hands in them, draws patterns in them. I approach her and kneel down beside her. She does not look up. She finishes drawing a Roman eagle in the dust. Her artistry is amazing. I don't think I've ever seen her draw before. 

"Fate is a cruel demon," Reyna says. "Everyone has said everything a thousand times to me. 'Most heroes die young. Jason lived so much in the time he was allowed.' 'He died a hero's death.' 'He wouldn't want us to be sad.' Why should I care? He's dead. How does this help me?"

"I think Jason would want us to be a little sad, just so he knew we loved him. But he didn't die in a sad accident. He died for a reason. He died for us. He'd want us to do something with that." I stare at the stars, twinkling. Jason deserved the immortality like that of the stars. "But everything seems impossible without him."

Reyna nods. She stands up and looks up. "We have to move on. For the legion and for everything else." She looks me in the eye. "Next time I see you, I think a lot of things will be very different."

"So they will." I extend my hand. She brushes past it and pulls me into a hug. I don't lie hugs, and Reyna doesn't like hugs, but somehow this is works. 

"Be safe," she says, and walks away, cape floating behind her. I turn back to the ashes, stretch my palm on top of them, and close my eyes. 

\-----------

When I open them again, I am in the Underworld. I kneel in a garden- it is withering in Persephone's absence. Without looking, I can feel my father standing behind me. 

"Jason Grace just arrived," he says. I stand up and face him. "I thought you might come here."

"His burial rites were done appropriately. I made sure of that. When is his judgement?"

"Soon. I doubt he will get anything less than Elysium."

I nod

"Do you want to speak to him?"

"Am I allowed to?" Hades nods. "I would like to."

Jason steps into the garden, though it's not clear from where. "Nico?"

It's hard to look at him- I almost feel as though it's not him. People are both their souls and their body, and Jason is spanning some strange middle ground. I realize this goodbye is just as much for him as it is for me- to reassure that I'll be fine without him. I force a smile. "Jason."

"Listen," he says, "There's a big threat coming to- both the camps. You know this. I know you and Reyna and all the others can handle it. But can you promise me that- you'll do everything you can to keep everyone safe? I want my death to mean that no one else has to die."

"There's no such thing as a bloodless war," I reply, "But there's no power on earth or Olympus that will stop me from protecting my friends. to the last drop of blood. I'll take care of them for you, Jason."

Jason looks infinitely relieved. "Love you, man," he says. 

"Love you too."

\---------

The sun is rising by the time I return to Camp. Will is sitting in the dining pavilion. 

"You waited for me?"

"Of course I did." He pauses. "How did it go?"

"Fine. I saw that his funeral went smoothly. I took a brief detour to the Underworld to say goodbye."

"That's- good?"

I nod. "I feel like I have closure now. And you know, that makes it easier."

"I don't know," Will says, "But I'm glad it worked."

Death is second nature to me, but grief is not. This certainly throws me. I know I didn't handle this smoothly, and I know I never could. I get too attached, or I don't get attached enough. But it's identifying our problems that make them easier to fix. And some of them, like love, don't need to be fixed.


End file.
